


The Awakening

by erhea



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: Betrayal, Darkness, Fate & Destiny, Force Bond (Star Wars), Jedi, Sith, The Force, balance, light - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erhea/pseuds/erhea
Summary: Rey chooses with her heart on the Supremacy. And everything changes.





	1. The Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Please allow me to apologize in advance for any mistakes made, for I know they are many. English is not my first language, not by far, and spell correctors always seem to fail me, one way or another. Unfortunately.  
> That being said, I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And if there’s someone out there that has beta experience and is somehow willing to guide this poor unfortunate soul in her journey to finish this story, please let me know. Any assistance will be highly appreciated.

She feels it happening again.

It whispers in her mind, an angry hum gravitating towards her heart, fire burning through her veins. 

Another awakening. 

A powerful one, like all the others that might have been, that have been and that will be, in this endless tragedy that unfolds before her eyes.

Light rises and darkness to meet it, or is it the other way around? She doesn’t really know, nor does she care to find out. 

It doesn’t matter anymore, nothing really does.

The struggle remains the same; the push and the pull – furious, relentless waves assaulting the shores, only to recede and heed an ancient, bygone call, back into the abyss. She sees them clearly now, standing on top of the cliff, wind furiously howling around her, salty drops clinging to her wrinkled face – remnants of the struggle below. 

Will they come for her again? Hoping against all hope to find the hero? Or had they become stories, as she hoped they would? She is no hero. She snorts as the thought registers, self-disgust growing and growing, and growing, until….

Her fingers twitch, closing into fists, purple veins becoming clearer against the yellow spotted flesh. Heroism is nothing more than a matter of perception, she bitterly thinks, as her lips curl in a wry smile.

Perspective... 

She cannot help but find it slightly amusing, the way each side stubbornly believes in its own righteousness… Caught in beliefs so rigid and unyielding, so utterly wrong.  
There had been a time when she had believed in it, too. In good and bad, in darkness and light, in doing the right thing and following the right path… And it had cost her everything.

How completely naïve and altogether stupid she had been in her youth.

But that fool died a long time ago...

She died on a faraway planet, while watching the ashes settle over the First Order, while hearing the rebels celebrate the first breath of freedom. She killed herself with the fledgling birth of another New Republic. She drew her last breath the moment it finally hit her that she gave her life and heart for a lost cause. She saw it then, amidst the painful beats of her dying heart, she saw it, beginning again and again and again. The never-ending dance of the Force, in its entire luminous splendor and frightful horror. And only then she understood, with sharp clarity, that it was all for nothing. That she had lost everything for a dream of a dream, that was never clearly grasped, but only glimpsed at. And glimpses never quite manage to paint a full picture, nor do they deliver a complete story…

Her exile – and she could never call it that, began the same day, as she boarded a nameless ship and left everything and everyone behind.

She could not face this empty world again, she could not, without grabbing it with both hands and tearing it apart…

Oh, they tried to follow her, her friends... She knew them, she felt them, an awareness more powerful than ever, but what joy had been there, in that connection, shriveled and died a long time ago. She only failed to acknowledge it, by her own will, as if closing your eyes and wishing desperately for everything to go back as it was, would somehow fix everything. But she had known, even then, in the deep recesses of her very soul, that it would not happen, that she was too far gone. Had she been so, sooner...

They tried to follow her, her friends… Eager to make her the face of the New Order, of the Change that was supposed to just happen overnight. A change that would never come, as long as the world was painted black and white. She felt them, and their intentions, aspirations and hope, but for once she was almost glad of her unwanted Jedi skills. Relief flooded her as she cloaked her presence and ran. They did not need her, the world did not need her, or better said she no longer needed them, not anymore, not for a long time… So, she let everything go, her past, her name, her sense of self, and everything else, but for her memories of him.

She grimaces, her right hand gripping her double edged staff with more force, closing her eyes to let it all go, to center herself. Only pain can be found by dwelling in things long gone. But still, the temptation of the forbidden fruit is, as always, more than she can handle. Not that she ever had a good grasp on her emotions, not even then... She’s used to it by now, her only regret being that she did not give into it sooner, perhaps it might have made a change in her fate.

Sometimes, if she concentrates enough, she feels his echo through the flow. Small tendrils of warmth, warm enough to keep her from plunging into the abyss, but never enough to quench her thirst. She hears and sees ghosts of might-have-beens, of would-have-beens, of love and laughter, of a happiness so bright that it never fails to shatter her. What it could-have-been had she had her eyes open, had she believed in him, had she chosen him, them, over all…

But she didn’t, and now she’s nothing more than a broken mess of regret, waiting for it's end…

The fiery reflections of the setting sun are a painful reminder of another time, and fulfills the dying murmurs of the force - a low hum now, far different from the angry vibrations from moments ago. It’s settling in now, no longer throbbing with warning, foreshadowing what is inevitably to come. 

She feels the world dying around her, as she does each night, a ritual of self-flagellation so familiar now, the embrace of her oldest friend. A moment and it suddenly passes, and she’s empty again, as hollow as before. 

She slowly turns to make her way to her resting place, a dark stone hovel in a long forgotten place, for a fitful but much needed sleep. Her joints crack – even with the slow, careful movement, and the force trembles and hums once more behind her, and she turns, she turns, she turns, she turns….

And he’s standing there! 

Her face is awash with awe and longing, with hope that slowly starts to die, giving place to resignation.. She cannot belive it real, this figment of her imagination, this wishfull thinking, and a piece of her dies a little more as each second ticks into the past.

But, he’s standing there, just outside her reach, arm extended and palm upturned.

She knows what follows. She had lived it before, hadn’t she? Every night she lives it, watching herself make the wrong choice. A perpetual torment stronger than any hell.  
There is madness in her thoughts now, sweet madness, tinged with desperation, and it all comes to a stop when a piece of fallen fire burns her skin, smooth and unblemished again.

But today, oh, today, she feels the warmth of the falling scraps of fire, the same strong orange of the dying day, she feels the burning of her muscles after a fight – oh, oh, OH! She forgot how good this feelt! Her breath comes in sharp gasps that burn and her heart flutters, clenches and hurts. And it all so very real and it hurts beyond any hurt! 

She looks at him! Really looks – as if she could ever not look - or stop looking, his dark hair matted with sweat, eyes beseeching –

\- “Please!”

His voice breaks, slightly, on the word. And there is so much hope, and want and need, and despair in that single word that she just flings herself in his arms, without second thought, without knowing she could.

And he is there... Solid, and warm, and damp.

He is all sharp edges, and jagged pieces, and her memories don’t do his uniqueness justice, but she feels his arms slowly come around her, in a tentative, awkward embrace, and it’s all so very real.

Her mind cannot comprehend what happened, why was she here or was she ever gone? 

And the force hums inside her, alive and vibrant and full of hope and she knows! She knows that her eyes have been opened in time for the could-have-beens to be. 

She feels something strange bubbling inside her, flowing to the surface, like water from a spring, and she’s amazed to feel herself full of happiness! Did she ever feel happy before?

She lets her head rest on the black of his cloth, above his beating heart, and she feels at peace as she never did before.

And the force hums, as if in agreement, it swirls around them in a giddy dance.

His hold on her strengthens, and she can feel his bewilderment through their bond. And what a marvel that is! Their bond is! She opens her end slowly, like a flower unfurling its petals to first rays of the sun, and sends her trust and reassurance at the forefront, as well as her complete and unshakable trust in the choice she made.

She closes her eyes and smiles, and just basks in it all, before small wisps of awareness make themselves known. 

“The Raddus!” she suddenly exclaims, taking a step behind.

“You must order them to destroy the Raddus!” she urges, turning to look at the pods that were still being taken down.

“But there’s no“ he begins.

“Admiral Holdo stayed behind and” she does not have the chance to finish the sentence. 

The world suddenly stands still for one interminable moment and then it shakes, and trembles, and groans, all while the light of explosions surrounds them at once. The sound returns then with vengeance, more poignant and sharp, and she knows that they must leave now, as the Supremacy is being ripped in half.

“What happened?” an incredulous voice asks, it’s owner taking in the mangled form of the Supreme Leader on the throne.

“We killed Snoke” Kylo replies and shrugs, his gloved hand grabbing hers, and holding it tight.

“You killed Snoke, You killed Snoke”, Armitage Hux slowly, dumbly repeats, as if unable to comprehend the act by itself. He blinks, looks at her, then back at him, his eyes narrowing into slits, while taking in their clenched hands.

“And what about her?!?” he rages, hands going for the small weapon he took on carrying since Starkiller Base.

“Not any of your business” she spats, glaring daggers at him, free hand extending for Kylo’s saber. The force answers her call easily, ans she feels the saber's cool handle hitting the palm of her hand. Her fingers close in on it, muscles sprung tight, ready to fall in the age-old dance.

“Who do you think you are, you litt” 

But his words are cut short, hands rapidly going to his neck to find purchase and relief, to grasp at something that cannot be grasped.

Kylo’s free hand stands still, his eyes widening while taking it all in. And it’s in that moment that she realizes that she was the one using the force to inflict harm, to dominate, to make a point and she feels proud.

“The Supreme Leader is dead” he drily states, and through the bond he sends his request to release Hux from her dangerous grip.

The ginger idiot drops down unceremoniously, hands rubbing at his neck, his face regaining composure at a quick pace.

“The Supreme Leader is dead” she underlines, while taking in again the halved body of the former ruler. “It’s time to let the past die” she softly continues.

“The Supreme Leader is dead”, Hux’s firm, unshaky voice takes over. “Long live the Supreme Leaders!”.

She startles at this, never expecting such an answer, not this soon, and Kylo’s amusement leaks through their link. He nods in approval at Hux, and finally, finally, she can let the tightness go and relax.

“We know where they are going. Get all our forces down to that Resistance base. Let’s finish this.” Kylo instructs, determination and finality in his voice.

They turn as one, intent on the task at hand, knowing that the time of sharing will come. 

And through it all, serenity settles, as the Supremacy becomes a glimpse of a thought in the night.


	2. The Last of the Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey face the last of the Jedi.

The air between them thrums with anticipation as they stand on the bridge of the Finalizer. 

They can feel the uncertainty of the officers, and even if she wouldn’t be able to do so, through the force, their inquiring eyes, the edginess of their postures, and the disbelief in some of their faces would have painted a clear enough picture by itself.

There is uncertainty, yes, mostly regarding her presence besides their leaders, and she cannot help but feel a shiver pleasure running along her spine, and she cannot help it, nor does she wish to. Is this the beginning of her fall, or is it just a side effect of her choice, she silently wonders.

She keeps her face blank, and her hand unconsciously goes for the hilt of her saber, ready to attack or defend, ready to destroy whatever or whoever may stand in the way of this new feeling she just discovered - this fledgling happiness she barely had the time to grasp at but had to catalogue and store it in the back of her mind.  
As if sensing that their entire world was on the edge, Hux stepped forward.

“The Supreme Leader is dead” he begins, resolution and conviction in his tone. There is a moment of dead silence before he continues. “The Supreme Leader Snoke is dead. Long live the new Supreme Leaders”. And then he turns towards them and kneels. “The First Order is yours to command, my Lord, my Lady”.

There is a short moment of surprise, and she almost immediately recognizes that it does not come from her, but from the man standing beside her.

One by one, the officers kneel. 

There is no fervent acknowledgment of the change in leadership, nor is there any disappointment over the loss of the old one. There is only acceptance - as if this change was just a new order issued by a superior at arms, and the conformity of doing their duty, as they have always done.

“The remaining rebels have taken refuge in the old Resistance base on Crait. Their forces are severely diminished, their weapons supply runs low and their rations can only take them so far. There is no sustenance to be found on the planet as it’s mainly covered in salt. I want…“ he stops here, turning to look at her, and she nods her approval, a small smile on her lips. His right hand extends towards her, and she takes it, stepping closer to him. “We want our forces down there. We will unleash all our power on them, and the galaxy will learn how our New Order deals with those that defy them. There will be no quarter given, no mercy to be bestowed. It’s time to end this, one and for all.”

And there it is, she thinks. There it is!

She relaxes her hold on the lightsaber as the air changes and the unnerving acceptance gives way to the birth of hope. Hope that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and that just maybe, this will soon be over and that peace might be at hand.

How could she not see it before? 

“We will begin our attack at once.” Armitage Hux commands, complete satisfaction on his face. “Deploy all remaining AT-ATs ands AT-M6s to the surface, along with any AT-HH we have available. We will use the super laser siege cannon to blow that base up and then go in with the stormtroopers and kill anything that moves. Captain Phasma, have a team of stormtroopers patrol the ground, have them report all and any strange movement from the surface. I want a report on anything, anything that moves down there!”

Another moment of silence and everything moves at once, in a flurry of activity. Officers scramble to their posts, commands are issued and in what seems like merely seconds, an important number of their forces – and isn’t that strange, that she has come to consider them as their forces; is already dispatched on the salty planet below. All aligned and ready to attack what she once had held dear.

They move into an Upsilon-class command shuttle – Kylo’s she registers, before turning her attention on the rebel base.

She vaguely remembers what comes next, a whisper of a long-forgotten memory, and she knows that it won’t be such an easy task to accomplish. She has a nagging feeling that she forgot something, something important, but the force-memories are dulled, enveloped in a shroud of despair and she cannot grasp them anymore. Only small imprints remain, although she knows, with absolute certainty, that this is the right path to walk. 

She watches through the screen as the troops advance, standing slightly behind the All-Terrain Heavy-Hauler and the cannon it drags behind. It’s a slow process, but soon the siege cannon is in place and the weapons start charging. 

She does not even blink as the Resistances pilots make their last stand, in what she supposes to be outdated low altitude airspeeders. She knows that it’s a futile endeavor, even with Poe and Finn at the lead of the attack. Another force-memory flickers, for a second, of a brunette with a crescent moon necklace, Rose… She remembers. And then the force trembles and whines and brightens as another makes itself known. 

Skywalker, she thinks, gritting her teeth, concerned eyes raising up and to meet Kylo’s. 

His brows are furrowed in thought, eyes dark and brimming with intensity.

She nods, confirming what she knows on an intrinsic level, that this is the moment when all their futures hang in balance.

“Skywalker is here” she murmurs, more for the ears of the General.

And as the Tie Fighters take down the last of the airspeeders, the cannon laser shoots on the bunker ahead.

Armitage Hux grunts in acknowledgment, and orders for the troops to advance as the massive gates of the bunker explode in shrapnel and dust and fire.

As the last blast settles, a man walks forward, facing the entire army of AT-M6.

Skywalker. 

But something feels off. She knows it, deep inside her own self, that something is very, very wrong.

Kylo’s nerves are on edge, she feels his tension and need of revenge leek through their bond, an intense need of retribution for the small boy betrayed by his Master. His rage burns high through his veins, it slithers and turns and still grows darker , and she cannot do anything else but tap into it while a memory comes to forefront.

“And what do you expect me to do? Charge in with a lightsaber to fend off an entire army?”

She scowls at that, at the absurdity of it all.

“I want every weapon we have to shoot at that man!” Kylo tensely order, eyes glued on the screen.

“The whole army? Isn’t that too much?” Huxs uncertainly asks, while analyzing the situation.

“All of them!” He insists. “It’s not barely enough” he furiously continues, hands closed in fists.

And there is smoke, and fire and the loud noise of guns firing that drowns all other sounds. 

“Again!” Kylo orders and the guns comply.

And, as the dust and silence settles again, Skywalker is still there, untouched and unharmed.

There is a small moment of incredulity that hangs in the room.

“I’ll take care of this myself” Kylo insists “Prepare a shuttle”.

“You’re not going alone!” she suddenly exclaims.

“No. You will stay here! I need you to be safe! There’s no tell on how he’s going to react once he sees you at my side” he counters. 

“I don’t care. You are not going to face him alone. He’s already written you off and he will not hold back. You need help” she insists.

“And that’s exactly why I need to know that you are safe. I can face him” he stubbornly continues “if I don’t have to worry about you. He shouldn’t have been able to withstand such an attack, it’s impossible, but he did. And I cannot give him the opportunity to expose you to his lies, not again…” 

And then, she suddenly understands why he’s so set against the idea of her joining him. He’s scared of losing her, either to the blade or to words. And she can be honest and admit to herself that before the throne room, an interaction with one of her own friends or even with the man she once had hoped to call master, could have sparked doubt and uncertainty in her mind, could have made her rethink the path she had chosen. But she had made her choice, and she did not consider herself a fickle person. And the throne room did happen, and in those moments, when she looked into the future, when the force showed her what will her abandon bring, when she understood the depth of her feelings and what her betrayal might cause, something shifted deep inside her and made it impossible for her to choose anything, anyone but him. And if that meant that she would have to choose him, all over again, every time his insecurities surfaced to the front, she would do it, no second thought.

“You are not alone, Kylo. Not anymore” she softly whispers, while opening the bond a little more and pushing everything she could through it. Her understanding, her compassion, her resolution and finally, her love.

He startles then, and looks at her in wonder, extending a hand to gently caress her cheek. 

His hands are warm, warmer than she expected them to be through the leather of the glove. And she does not hesitate to lean into it, just a little, to extend the moment and the feeling a little more.

“You called me Kylo” he says, suddenly, questioningly.

She nods then, a small smile on her lips.

“I cannot lose you. Not now, not to him…” she continues, pleading him to understand. „I am not going to interfere unless there’s need for it. Skywalker is yours, but I will not stand aside while you confront him. Don’t ask this of me.” she almost begs. He nods then, sending reassurance and comfort over their bond. 

„Well if this moment of... of... human interaction is over,” Hux impatiently growls „then, may I remind you that we are in the middle of a war here? I shouldn't need to remind you the importance of this moment. It's time to crush the Rebellion into the footnotes of history! It's time for The First Order to rise to an even greater greatness! It's time to make it clear to the whole Universe that opposing the First Orders will mean total annihilation!” he fervently continues, motioning towards the exit. 

„We are ready to take you down there, Supreme Leader. Will the Lady join you?”

Kylo’s hand twitches, ready to force choke the ginger general, years of habit hard to ignore, but Rey’s hand grabs hold of it and tilts her head in the direction of the closed doors.

The descend is short and full of tension. She confidently walks next to Kylo, one hand clenched on the hilt of the saber, as if her life depends on it. And this time it does.

They stop in front of their opponent, and she takes note of his appearance, and she’s once more hit with a feeling of misplacement. It’s all so very wrong. Luke Skywalker, Maser Jedi, hermit of Ahch-too looks younger than the last time she saw him, less than a day ago. His beard is trimmed, his posture is straight and relaxed, as if the weight of the world was taken off his shoulders. He is wearing a black Jedi attire, so different from the old and worn clothes he had previously worn on the island. 

He looks at her then, and a flicker of sadness and guilt flowing through his eyes before being replaced by rage and resolution.

„So, you have fallen too” he spats. „What has he offered you? Power? Wealth? Re...”

„You know nothing!” she interrupts, eyes narrowed, anger barely restrained.

„I know enough! I know that you betray your friends, people who trusted you, who loved you, who looked up to you, for this monster!” he spits, while turning on his lightsaber. 

“They are stil waiting for you, in that bunker!” He turns on the saber and the weapon burns blue, illuminating his face with a sickly pallor.

„He is not a monster. You are!” she passionately counters. „How else could you justify the act of trying to murder an innocent child that trusted you, while he slept!” 

“And here I am getting morality lessons from an upstart nothing” he sneers.

He laughs then, angrily, condescendingly.

„And Him! He was no innocent! Just a snake ready to strike and I regret not having finished what I started years ago” he continues and suddenly lunges towards Kylo.

The green of his saber meets red in a fury of barely controlled powerful strikes. Kylo parries all of them, gritting his teeth and bracing his weight on his legs for purchase, barely being able to hold back the fury of his attacker. He draws back, blue flashing in a show of dexterity and skill.

„Come on, nephew. Let me show you what true power means” he goads, while whirling and twisting the saber around.

And it all goes, over, and over again. Attack, parry, push, counter-attack, feint to the left and retreat. And red meets blue, or is it blue meets red, in a fury of strikes, neither gaining an advantage, nor giving up.

She feels an echo of Kylo’s temper increase, and she fears that his growing anger will be the final push for his uncle to gain advantage and she cannot, she cannot, stand aside and let happen. But she also has to admit, to herself, that there isn’t much she can do to help, either. Her skill with the saber is mediocre at best, and she wonders, for only a moment, on how has she able to best Kylo on the Starkiller base, before remembering that had been injured at the time, and most probably mentally distressed. She cannot even comprehend what killing one’s parent – even an absent one as she supposes Han had been, was able to do to one’s mind. 

Suddenly, Luke lunges, twists and turns, and Kylo loses his balance and falls. Her lightsaber is out and ignited before her actions even register and suddenly she’s behind Skywalker and she sees herself, like in an old holo movie, thrusting her weapon through the heart of her former teacher’s back.

The light of her saber pulses. Or that’s what she thought, but it’s Skywalker, that actually flickers, before vanishing into nothingness.

„He was projecting” she states, and a strangled laugh escapes her lips. 

Her eyes find his and there is something dark, possessive, in the way he takes her in, and she shivers in anticipation.

But the silence is disrupted by the sound of approaching feet, and with it the approach of the stormtroopers.

He stands slowly, faces flush with adrenalin and anger, and she reaches for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, as soon as her fingers interlock with his.

„That coward” he hisses, hand gripping hers almost to the breaking point. „That kriffing coward!” he continues and she flinches in pain. And that’s all it takes to calm his rage, his grip loosening and a thumb caressing the back of her hand in apology.

„The rebels are gone” he says after a few minutes of searching through the land with the force.

She nods. „He stalled for them to escape” she confirms “but we will find them.”

The troops stop in front of them and Captain Phasama draws near, waiting for orders.

„Burn the place to the ground” Rey orders, as she gently turns towards the shuttle. She slightly stumbles on her way, and he moves his arm on her back, for support and guidance. All of the sudden she feels spent, and looking at Kylo she realizes that he looks as exhausted as she feels.

Hux awaits as they descend from the shuttle. 

„So, they escaped” he murmurs while taking them in. „We will rejoin the fleet and start looking for them” he continues.

Kylo’s eyebrows furrow in thought.

„No.” He begins. „It’s time to let the past go and look towards the future.” He continues. „Let’s concentrate on rebuilding what we lost and strengthen our forces. We’ll deal with them when the need arises”.

Hux looks pensively at him, before nodding once and leaving in the direction of the bridge.

Kylo, tugs Rey to him, gathering her into his arms in a loose embrace. He then draws a deep breath and slowly guides her through the long corridors of the Finalizer, towards his quarters.

The sterile corridors seem endless, as they make their way through them, and the lack of any patrols gives the walk an air of unmarked solemnity.

By the time they reach their destination she feels tired and spent. 

As if knowing what she needs – and he does, she vaguely notes, as the bond still hums with life between them - stronger than ever before, he guides her through his room, into his sleeping quarters and to his bed. 

Slowly, gently, he kneels before her and removes her boots, before laying both of their weapons on the table. He slides between the sheets, next to her, and takes her into his arms, and she rests her head on his chest, above his beating heart. And he is there, warm and alive, and finally, finally, she can let herself go, in peace - at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not entirely satisfied with how this chapter played out, but it will have to do. That being said, I still need a beta reader. If there's someone out there that can help bounce my ideas around and correct my grammar, just let me know. So, read, enjoy and have at least half as much fun as I had while writing this!


	3. Awareness

She’s warm – the first thing she realizes, as her consciousness stirs in the dawning hours of the new day. She’s warm, her head rests on something soft - a pillow, and a hand with long, graceful fingers, is splayed across her middle, holding her to him. She turns, looking at him, hardly believing that this is real, that she is here, with him. Her muscles stretch and burn with the movement, and she’s sore and stiff, but the pain is wonderful – as it brings the reality of the situation home – in dreams you don’t get hurt, do you?

He’s lying next to her, face relaxed, deep in sleep as she takes him in. His face is wide and pale, splattered with nevi and dirt – they should have used the ‘fresher last night, she idly notes, before continuing with her perusal. His eyes are closed, long dark eyelashes kissing the dark circles below – how long has it been since he had a good night sleep, she wonders. Her eyes shift to his nose – long, patrician she muses - and to his lips, and then to the scar she left behind, on that fateful duel from Starkiller Base. It’s healed now, and it has been for a long time – she has seen it healing through their Force-enabled meetings, and she cannot help but lift her hand to gently trail her fingers along it. She cannot understand why he had not had it healed completely, but she does not regret having it put there. It’s a testimony of how far they have come from their shady beginning, when all she could feel was a deep-seated wish to enact retribution on the murder of one of the first persons that gave her a place to belong. He stirs, then, dark eyes slowly opening and widening as they take her in.

“Good morning” she murmurs, hand cupping his right cheek.

He smiles and shifts, wincing in pain.

His hand rises, and cups her left cheek, mirroring her action.

His eyes darken with desire as she slowly leans in and tastes him for the very first time. His lips are full, soft but firm, and slightly chapped. They meld against her with an unexpected gentleness, unsure but tender and slightly eager in discovery, and she feels a warmness starting inside her very center, making its way through her entire being, increasing in intensity with each passing second. He grows bolder and his tongue probes at her lower lip, and she slowly parts them to allow him entry. A whimper escapes her throat and his breath grows heavy and short, as their tongues dance to the intimate tune of desire and want. She gives everything, as she receives everything in return, and all thoughts are reduced to this, this moment alone. He slows his attack on her lips, and slowly, oh so very softly, he kisses her on her eyes, her cheeks, and once more on her lips. His eyes are full of wonder, searching her own, and she cannot breathe, she cannot. She knows that her own reflect the same hunger and want, and she runs her fingers on his bottom lip, her mind consumed by them, by how well they fit against her.

“You chose me” he murmurs, reverently, while running his fingers through her unbound hair. “No one has ever done that” he slowly continues.

“There wasn’t a choice to be made” she answers, softly, while leaning into his hand.

“But in that moment, on the Supremacy, you didn’t want to, did you? And then suddenly you did…” he continues, voice uncertain.

“I… I was conflicted. I wanted, oh Maker, how I wanted to...” She replies. “To throw everything away and never look back and just take your hand” she continues, while turning her face from him and looking at her hands.

“But I had people, no, friends, that counted on me, that believed in me and I couldn’t turn my back on them…”

“And what changed?” he asks, gently lifting her chin to meet her eyes.

“There was something… I don’t know how to explain, I don’t actually understand it myself.”

“Then try, please, I need you to try!” he quietly insists.

“I saw myself going back to the Resistance, helping them escape and continue fighting. And it broke something inside me… It was… You died! Kylo, you died! Not that day, but somewhere in the future and it broke me! And that gap in my heart, that never ending incompleteness and regret and pain, it never ended! I was just standing there, at the edge of the abyss, not having the power to make the final leap!” She starts sobbing then, as the feelings were still there, hidden but ever present.

“Shush, it’s ok, I am here” he whispers, gathering her in his arms and running his fingers down her arms in a comforting gesture.

“Yes, but I can’t unfeel it! I know, my mind knows that it didn’t happen but my heart, my soul, still mourns, and I can’t… I can’t…” she hiccups, her breath coming into sharp, irregular gasps.

“And the circle kept repeating itself. Time after time. New Jedi, new Sith, conflict upon conflict, and so many lives lost… I felt each one of them, each cry, each plea for help and I didn’t care!” she continues while shaking her head. “I couldn’t believe in it anymore. Not after everything!”

He stares at her deep in thought, while waiting for her feelings to settle – her feelings, he still feels them through the bond, as it’s laid bare before him.

“Whatever you saw” he murmurs “it didn’t happen. I am here, Rey, and I will never let you go. Never. This I can promise”.

“I know, I know that now. I can feel it” she offers a little smile. “But…”

“But?” he nudges.

“Can you imagine it? What would have happened, had I left?” she continues.

He flinches, looking down for a short moment, before returning his eyes to hers.

“I don’t know… I would have been angry, and hurt, but I’d like to think that I would have found my way back to you, somehow…”

She shakes her head back and forth in denial.

“No, you wouldn’t. You couldn’t! I wouldn’t let you! Even when I knew that you were not all dark, as you let yourself known to be. What they…” she stops there, hesitantly, biting her lower lip.

His finger rises to her lip, releasing it, and gently rubbing the abused flesh, and he nods for her to continue.

After a few moments of silence, she starts anew.

“I didn’t look at the whole picture, I didn’t see” she begins, while running her fingers on the still deep scar that mars his face. “I didn’t understand what it felt like, living the life that you led, but I know now that I should consider myself lucky for it. To be ignored, no neglected by your parents…”

He flinches, and he removes his hands, closing them in tight fists, turning away.

“No, I’m not trying… Please, let me finish.” She implores.

He jerks his head in harsh nod.

“I always wanted parents. I always dreamed that they would come back for me, apologize for leaving me and that we would, somehow, patch the broken pieces of our family back together and just be happy. I thought that maybe then, the loneliness that defined my life up to that point would be filled with laughter and joy. I wanted to belong, to have an identity, a meaning, to be more than Rey the scavenger, the nobody from Jakku” she continues.

He flinches again and gathers her in his arms once more.

“You are not nothing Rey” he begins, “no matter where you come from. You did what you had to do to survive, but you were never nothing.”

“I know” she nods. “I know that now. But for the life of me, I could never understand why they did what they did, my parents, your parents… Children are to be treasured and loved, not abandoned, feared and neglected. And they did that, didn’t they?” she goes on. “Leia neglected you for the New Republic, Han feared your abilities and abandoned you for his adventures. And then, when everything became too much she shipped you off to him, to Skywalker, washing her hands of you. You didn’t even want to be a Jedi, did you?” she asks.

“No, I didn’t. I begged her to let me stay and she wouldn’t…” he answers, gritting his teeth.

“And you were just a boy and then he, your uncle…”

“I never understood why he attacked me that night” he interrupts. “Oh, I know that he must have seen something horrible in one of his visions” he wryly continues “but what could I have done, so terrible, to deserve death? And for the Force’s sake, he believed in Vader! He redeemed him, the most feared Sith Lord in recent history, and he believed that there was still conflict in him!”

She hears his teeth gritting in frustration, again, and feels the full force of his fury through their connection.

“And that is where he failed you, Kylo. He gave you no choice. He couldn’t admit, not even to himself, what he had done, and left you with no other alternative than to go to the only place you could.”

“Snoke.”

“Yes, and they didn’t try to come after you, did they?”

“No, they didn’t, and I couldn’t just march into my mother’s office and tell her that I, along with others, had to fight our way out of the Academy because her brother, the Jedi Resistance Hero, tried to murder me in my sleep” he sneered.

“No one would have believed you.” She nods. “And you gave yourself to the dark, didn’t you? Tried to stomp all light out, everything that reminded you of them…”

He nods, then, pain and uncertainty in his eyes.

“But you don’t have to!” She insists.

“If you think that you can change me” he gruffly interrupts.

“No, I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. I am well aware that Ben Solo is dead, thank you very much. But you don’t have to be all dark or all light. You are both, and so am I, and we are better for it!” She lets her hand rest on his chest, above his heart. “You were right, you know, in that throne room.”

“Was I?” he asks, while resting his hand on top of hers.

“Yes, it is time for the Jedi and the Sith to die. Can we not just be us, neither light, nor dark, just Rey and Kylo, human, together?”

“Together?” he echoes, deep in thought.

“Yes” she nods, “Just us, doing our best to fix this mess!”

He smiles and leans in to kiss her forehead. “You still want to fix things… I think I am ok with that.”

“And do you understand why I said that there was no choice to be made?”

He nods. “You are everything, everything to me, Rey” he confesses.

“Good.” She hums, while closing her eyes. “Because you are everything to me, too.”

“Rey” he whispers, after a few moments, against her forehead. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to rule, but I fear that if we were to leave, someone else would take our place, and then the consequences would be dire”

“I know, and that’s precisely why we should do this. And I think that we will need all the help that we can get.”

“Hux?” he questions, as if reading her mind.

“And Phasma.” she confirms.

“Well then, we should meet them, but not before using the ‘fresher” he smirks, while leering at her.

She bursts in peals of laughter as she swats at his shoulder, without any strength in her gesture, before removing herself from his embrace and heading towards the ‘fresher, locking the door behind her.

The water is warm, as it washes away the dirt and grime, soothing her overused muscles. She smiles to herself, while lathering up the shampoo into her hair. She feels lighter now, better, renewed, and her thoughts drift to the damaged man that waits for her behind the closed doors. She knows him and his darkness – held together by a thread of light, and she wouldn’t have him any other way. Perhaps they will manage to achieve inner balance, in time, as their lingering wounds heal and new memories, good memories, form and replace the bitter ones. Or maybe they will balance each other, with him more dark and she more light, perfect mirror reflections of each other. She hopes this will come to pass, and even if it doesn’t, she will be there, by his side, supporting him, loving him through whatever fate might throw in their way.

She leaves the room clad in a dark towel – does he own anything that comes in color, she wonders, even while admitting that black looks good on him.

“I arranged some clothes for you.” His face is flushed as his eyes linger on her, taking her in. “It’s nothing more than a standard officer uniform, but we’ll find something more to your liking in the following days.”

He passes by her, heading to the ‘fresher, giving her time to change and stop the frantic beating of her own heart – or is it his? It’s getting harder to separate their feelings from one another, as entwined as their souls already were.

She leaves her hair unbound – she does not need the reminder anymore. She’s no longer that scared little girl, waiting for her parents to remember and return for her. She no longer needs to put buns in her hair – for her absent parents to know that it’s her. She does not need them to belong. She already does belong, here with him. She is no longer alone.

And she feels his agreement through their bond.

No. They are no longer alone, they belong to each other now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my marvelous beta, arack14. You are brilliant, and I do not say this lightly.


End file.
